Ruler of Panem
by Fanfiction Bard
Summary: Modern/Fantasy AU. When 16 year old Katniss Everdeen is saved from monstrous creatures by her teacher and two of her classmates, they start talking to her about warriors, magic, and some ancient power sealed within her. She thinks her life can't get any weirder, until she runs into a certain blond, blue-eyed sorcerer that's supposed to be her enemy. Everlark. Rating will go up.
1. Prologue

**Hello! This is my first Hunger Games fanfic. I had the idea for this for a long time, and it wouldn't leave me alone. Before I knew it, I was making posters.**

**So, this AU is based off of my favorite anime, "Nabari no Ou". It's basically modern day with ninjas living in the shadows, different ninja clans fighting a secret war for power. In this AU, instead of ninjas, there are warriors, magicians, and magic. To me, that seems to fit in a lot better into the "Hunger Games" universe than ninjas, plus I'll be able to add my own creative touch. For those who've seen it, I'm putting Peeta in the place of Yoite, and Katniss is the place of Miharu. It's going to follow most of the canon from the anime, but with a few twists, some from the "Hunger Games" canon, and some from my own making.**

**For the poster, I originally intended to put together images from the film, but they were all ridiculous and I didn't think anyone could take them seriously. I decided that since this AU is based off an anime, I'd use anime images instead. The anime images of Katniss and Peeta are from fortykoubuns on deviantART, so most of the credit goes to her. Her "Hunger Games" works are pretty great, and I recommend you check them out.**

**The prologue is going to cover how Katniss and Peeta first met, and we'll get to all the magic and adventure (and of course, Everlark), in the next few chapters.**

PROLOGUE

It's always dark in the basement.

_That's good._

He had come to love darkness while other children were afraid of it.

Not that he would know. The only people he had ever seen was his father, his stepmother, and visiting relatives. His father never lets him out of the basement since he remarried. Not many kids would remember much at that age, but _he_ remembered it all.

He remembered everything his family said to him, how they made it clear where he stood with them.

_Why? Why did she die? Why couldn't _you_ have died instead?_

_You killed her, you know that? She wanted to bring you into the world, and how'd you pay her back? By killing her._

_If you never existed, everyone would be so much happier._

_You were a murderer before you were even born._

_You're a monster. An angel of death._

_If only you had died…_

He involuntarily pulls his black coat closer as he began to tremble at the memories. His coat and the beige hat he always wore on his head are one of the few things that were truly his. He had found them in the basement, along with many other things. Old photos of people he had never met, books he didn't know how to read, and things he had never seen before in his life. It was unbearably cold when he found the coat. He had been looking for a blanket, anything that could keep him warm. The coat was several sizes too big for him, but it had kept the cold air at bay, and ceased his shivers. The hat, he found purely by accident, when he was choosing a suitable box in the basement he could use for a bed. When he wore it, he found some kind of security when his eyes were covered almost completely by the hat's low peak.

The day they had thrown him in the basement was the last day he had been anywhere outside. They never let him out for any occasion, perfectly content with keeping him locked away in the darkness. The only time that door ever opens is when one of them comes to show how much they despise his existence, whether it be by their words or their fists, or to throw him scraps of food that'll quiet his growling belly, at least for a while. He doesn't know why they just haven't killed him yet. He guessed they favored punishing him, rather than relieving themselves of their burden.

So they just kept him hidden away in the basement, out of sight, out of mind. He can always hear sounds though. Many different sounds come from behind the door. Some of them are familiar, his father and stepmother he hears every day. Other days, he hears his relatives, the uncle and aunt that favor verbal abuse than physical, the elderly man (uncle or grandfather, he doesn't know) that prefers a simple punch in the place of words, and the foul-smelling cousin that would tell him to close his eyes and wait for a "surprise" (which was either being punched in the gut or pushed down the stairs). Sometimes he heard children's voices, some that would look curiously in the basement, only to be pulled away by their furious parents, threatened with the same fate if they ever looked at him again. He remembers all their voices, and the door that had kept him inside the basement had done a poor job of keeping sounds out.

He hears the door open, and he doesn't bother to look. The light from outside the basement that flooded the peaceful darkness always hurt his eyes. It didn't help either when he hears the click of the light switch being turned on.

"Who are you?"

It's a child's voice. A girl's.

Most of the children who had stolen a peek inside his prison held a disdainful and mocking tone, sneering at the boy who had spent his life in the darkness.

But her voice was softer. It was curious, gentle, and tender, and it was probably the best sound his ears have heard in his short life.

Her voice alone made him want to pick up his head and face the light.

He winced as he looked up, the light of the now-lit room stinging the eyes that were used to darkness. By the time his eyes adjusted, she finished climbing down the steps and is walking hesitantly towards him.

As the voice confirmed, it _is_ a girl, probably about as old as he is, if not younger. She wore a red plaid dress, her hair dark, done in two braids. Her skin is dark, an olive-colored complexion. What strikes him the most was her eyes. The orbs are a startling shade of grey, which in the light, look like they're glowing hue of moonlit silver.

She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

She terrifies him.

Immediately, he hugs his legs closer and buries his face in his knees.

He starts shaking when he hears her get closer.

Is she going to hurt him? The only people who had ever gotten this close to him had ended up hurting him, verbally as well as physically.

"Hello."

He hadn't been expecting a greeting. He hesitantly looks up, and sees her standing in front of him. He finds that even when she's standing and he's sitting, she's hardly taller than him. She gives him a toothy toddler grin, and he hides his face once more. It's not that he's never seen anyone smile at him before, it's just that nothing pleasant ever followed.

"Why are you down here?" she asks, surprising him. "The party's upstairs."

He doesn't answer.

"What's your name?" She asks.

Again, he doesn't answer. He doesn't have a name. They wanted a girl, but they had a boy instead. His family never bothered naming him.

"I'm Katniss," she says. When she is once again greeted by silence, she spoke again. "I told you my name, so you have to tell me yours!" He can hear the displeasure and annoyance in her voice that makes him wince as he hugs his legs tighter. "Please?" her voice softens a bit, "I didn't mean to scare you. Can you please tell me your name?"

He wants to give her an answer, but he doesn't have one. He doesn't have a name to give her. He wishes he had a name as lovely-sounding as hers. _Katniss_. From her voice, the word sounded so much sweeter. He wonders how her parents had come up with such a pretty name. He wonders if she appreciates the fact that she _has_ a name. He doesn't have one to give, so he tells her what his family had told him almost on a regular basis.

"I don't exist," he finally speaks, his voice hoarse, weak, and scratchy from days of disuse. "I don't have a name."

His family had never wanted him dead. No. If they wanted him dead, they'd have killed him by now. They wished he hadn't been born in the first place. So, they did what they could to make that wish a reality. They locked him away from their sight, refused to give him a name, and went about life as if his birth (his mother's death) never happened.

Katniss doesn't think as simply, as he finds out.

"You're silly," is all the girl says. "Of course you exist. You're here."

He's silence as he slowly begins to lift his head, but looks to his side so as to not meet her eyes.

"Do you really not have a name?"

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I told you, I don't exist."

She frowns. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because I never should have been born," he's just repeated what everyone else had said to him, but Katniss doesn't seem satisfied.

She seems angry.

"Of course you should have been born!" she says determinedly, her intense grey eyes boring into him so much that it almost makes him hide his face again. "That's an awful thing to say!"

His eyes keep darting towards the basement's door, expecting someone to come and drag Katniss through the only way in and out of his dark little prison. He's worried that they might find her here, that they'll take her away forever, and he'll never hear her voice again or see those gray eyes (as frightening as they might be).

But he's also afraid that they come and hurt Katniss. That she'll suffer the same fate as him.

_He's_ the angel of death, not her. He should suffer alone.

Apparently, she notices his anxiety. "Don't worry, the grown-ups won't come down here. Most of them aren't even in the house."

"Not in the house?" he asks confusedly.

"They're having a bob…bobby…barb…bar…ba…" she scowls as she struggles to get the words right. "They're just cooking food on the grill. I don't know why they don't say that instead of bo…bee…" she groans in frustration as she sits down next to him, arms folded.

"Why aren't you with them?" he asks.

"Adults are boring," she shrugs. "Boring and noisy. I don't wanna be stuck with them. I wanna explore!" she says with a giddy grin.

"So you came here?"

"Yeah!" she nods excitedly. "I thought the basement would be like a cave or something. I thought it would be fun to hide here."

"It's not fun," he says. Fun? In the basement? He's been down here for the majority of his life, and he's never felt anything akin to "fun".

"But you get to stay here all the time," Katniss points out.

"I'm forced to stay down here," he finally says, more steel in his gravelly young voice. "My father won't let me leave."

"That's not right," she scowls again, and he notices how little such an expression becomes her. "Your daddy should take care of you. That's what daddies do. They love us. Why would he keep you down here?"

He doesn't answer. Mainly because he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know whether it's to punish him or so that he wouldn't kill anyone else like he killed his mother. All he knows is that they want him out of their lives.

Out of existence.

"How old are you?" she asks. He decides Katniss likes asking questions.

"Twelve," he only knows that because that's what he had heard. They said he was twelve not too long ago, so it couldn't have been a year since then. He doesn't have any sense of time here. He can't watch the sun set or rise to know when the day was over and a new one begun. In the basement, it's all darkness.

"You're two whole years older than me!" Katniss said, impressed for some reason. "Big kids usually don't wanna play with me."

"Why?" now the tables have turned. In the short time he knew her, Katniss was probably the one person that had ever shown him anything rather than the usual spite his family saves for him. How could anyone not want to be in her company?

"They call me a baby," she says as she looks down. "Girls call me weird. And boys don't like me because they think I have cooties."

Cooties? What on earth were those? "Do you?" he asks genuinely, but a look of hurt flashes across her face.

"_No_!" she looks away, but he doesn't have to see her face to know she's angry.

Guilt begins to wallow in his stomach. It's his fault. He made her angry. He doesn't want that. He wants to see that smile again.

"I'm sorry," he said those words so many times to his family (not that they've forgiven him). So much that it's lost meaning to him. He doesn't want to offer her meaningless words, but that's all he _can_ do.

She looks at him again, and gives a small smile. "It's okay," but she doesn't say anything more. For about a minute, they're silent again. He hates how silent she's being right now. He likes her a lot more when she was talking. Not just hearing her voice, but how she smiled when she spoke, how her grey eyes would light up to that shade of silver with a smile on her face.

"I like your voice," he blurts out. He knows it probably sounds stupid, but he just wants her to say something. Just to hear her speak, to know whether she's still mad at him.

But she beams at him, and that lets him know they're alright. "Thanks! I'm my music teacher's favorite!"

"You sing," he says, his words a statement rather than a question. He shouldn't be surprised. How could a voice like hers _not_ sing? Thinking that she couldn't sing was like thinking up was down or that pigs could fly. It was ridiculous.

"Yeah, I do!" she chirps. "There's one a song I really like. One my daddy taught me."

"Can I hear it?" he asks. He wants to hear her sing. To hear her voice glow in the glory of song.

Katniss shifts slightly. "I haven't remembered all of it yet," she sounds embarrassed.

"Oh," he says disappointed. He really wanted to hear what her voice would sound like when it sang.

"When I memorize it, you'll be the first person to hear me sing!" she says as she holds out her pinky. He looks at it oddly, wondering what she's trying to do. "let's pinky swear!" pinky swear? Why would they promise on their _fingers_? It sounded strange. "Just put your pinky with mine," hesitantly, he lifts his hands, self-conscious of how thin and bony his hands were.

He gripped her pinky with his, and she made a motion that was close to a handshake. She removed her small finger, and he found himself missing her touch.

"There," she smiled widely. "When I remember the whole song, you'll be the first to hear it."

He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled, but he felt an overwhelming urge to return Katniss's. He did his best to mimic her mouth's movement, but he didn't need a mirror to know his was a much less brilliant, more crooked version. But from the way her smile widened, she looked like she didn't mind.

"You need to smile more," she tells him. "My daddy says that you can make yourself and others happy if you just smile!"

Her father must be a wise man. All it took was a few of her smiles, and he's felt better than he has his whole life. It was as if his self-pity and guilt had melted away, like they never existed.

Suddenly, he hears a growl, and his eyes instinctively shoot towards the door, afraid that someone has caught them. When he sees that there's no one there, the growl comes again, and it doesn't come from the top of the stairs, but from Katniss's _stomach_.

"I should have gotten something to eat," she rubs her belly. "I'm hungry."

_She's_ hungry? All he had to eat were some unappetizing scraps of food they had given him last time, and while he didn't know exactly when the last time was, he knew it was a _long_ time ago.

"Come on," Katniss grabbed his hand and began to lead him to the stairs. "Let's get food!" she pulls his hand, but frowns when he doesn't move.

"I'm not allowed to leave," he reminds her. The promise of the good food they ate outside of the basement sounded enticing, but it was trumped by the fear of his family.

"No one will notice!" she pulled him harder, but he yanks his hand away (though earlier he would find the very notion absurd).

"Please!" he begged. "They can't…"

"Can't _what_?" she asked impatiently.

"If they see me leave, we'll both get in trouble!"

"Oh," she looks crestfallen. "I don't wanna leave you here all alone."

"Here," he reaches into his coat pocket and hands Katniss some bread. Sometimes he saves some of the food they give him in case they neglect the fact that he needs to eat. Right now, all he has is a small piece of flat bread. He doesn't think it'll be very appetizing, but he is surprised when she grins widely.

"Pita bread!" she exclaims happily as she takes it. "My daddy and I eat this all the time! It's great with peanut butter. Have you ever had peanut butter?" he shakes his head. Another term he's never heard of. He really missed a lot. "You haven't?" she asks incredulously. He shakes his head again. "Next time I come here, I'm bringing you some. Here," she rips the small piece into two smaller halves, and hands him one. "You look hungry too."

He took it, taken by disbelief once again. No one had ever given him anything out of kindness. Before he could thank her, she stuffs the bread into her mouth and chews contently. She's acting entirely as if the deed was as simple as sneezing. Like it didn't even matter.

How little she knew. How little…

Before he could even swallow the bread, from behind the door, they hear someone calling Katniss's name. For a minute, he's petrified. He's scared that someone will catch the two of them together, and make them both pay for it. The voice is not one he's heard before, but it worries him all the same.

"I…I need to go," Katniss sounds upset. "My daddy's calling me."

"Um…Katniss…I…" he wants to say something to her, to let her know how much he appreciated her coming down here. How much the kindnesses she showed to him meant.

"I'll come see you the next time I come down," she declares. "I promise I'll get better in singing so I can sing for you!"

As she turns towards the stairs, in the swamp of pity and sadness he's currently drowning in, he gets an idea.

"Wait!" he gets up and runs over to a box full of junk.

"What?" she asks curiously as he digs through the box's contents.

Buried under Legos decorated with dark stains, a broken picture frame, a box of staples, shards of shattered ceramic, sewing needles, and snapped pencils, he finds what he's looking for. A pearl pendant. It's simple, a pure white pearl fixed onto a silver holder. No one has claimed it, so he felt as if he could call it his own. He would sometimes spend hours just looking at it, getting lost in its splendor. Before Katniss, it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"For you," he held out the pendent to her, and she looks at in in awe.

"It's so pretty," she gapes at it. _Not as pretty as you_, he wants to say, but he stops himself. She slowly takes it out of his outstretched hands. "Thank you."

"No," he says, trying his hardest to speak clearly. "Thank _you_. I…I liked… being with you…" he looks away, nervous to what she'll say next. For a long time, she's silent, and he's worried that she didn't enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers. Why would she? He's a monster. The angel of death. If she had any sense, she would have stayed out of the basement in the first place.

But again, she surprises him.

"Me too," she says. She walks over to him one last time, and quickly plants a small kiss on his cheek before rushing up the steps.

He just stands there for a while in a daze, and its several minutes before he notices she had left the light on.

* * *

He waits.

He waits for her to fulfill her promise and come back. He waits for her to bring pita bread with peanut butter that she had promised to share with him.

He waits to hear her voice again, to hear it sing for him.

* * *

Time flies by.

Food gets through the basement door, and he begins wishing for pita bread. He starts saving most of it, eating it when he wants to be reminded of her.

He wonders what peanut butter will taste like.

* * *

He hears music outside the door. He probably hears it almost every day for as long as he's been in the basement. But now, he knows deep down that the best music they play could never compare to Katniss's voice.

He can't wait to hear her sing.

* * *

The door opens, and he sees his father walk down the steps.

As he sees him, he's reminded of Katniss, how she spoke so highly of her father, and what she said about his.

_Your daddy should take care of you. That's what daddies do. They love us._

He looks up, and when his father hasn't beaten him yet, he smiled wider than he ever had in his whole life. He begins to feel irrational hope. Hope that allows him to believe that his father could forgive him for taking away his mother. Maybe Katniss's words were true.

That they could love him.

That they could be a real family.

But all those hopes come crashing down when his eyes fall on the knife in his father's hand.

**Yeah, I'm ending the prologue there. I'm such a sadist, I know. ;)**

**To all of you who want to see this continued, I have every intention to do so, but since I'm currently working on a "Kingdom Hearts" fanfic and I have classes to worry about, I'll be updating slow on this one.**

**Plus, I'm also working on a Hunger Games/Skyrim crossover. See, I'm suffering a tragic case of Everlark fever, (I blame all those great fics I've read), and the only cure is to get those damn wonderful ideas that keep popping in my head in writing. It'll have adventure, suspense, friendship, all your favorite "Hunger Games" characters, elements from "Skyrim", and, brace yourself…Everlark (no duh). I don't want to reveal any spoilers, but I can ASSURE you that it's not a cheesy "Hunger Games characters go into an inter-dimensional portal and go to Skyrim" kind of story. It'll be in the "Hunger Games" category for the first few chapters.**

**I'm still working out the kinks for this fic and I barely even started writing the HG/S, plus the other fics, and I have and classes, so it'll be a while before I get to them. But who knows, sometimes my muse takes control of my person (it gets annoying after a while).**

**Until then, I bid you all adieu. Be sure to leave some feedback and comments. Those are always helpful.**


	2. I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong

**So, we'll now be getting to the fantasy/adventure aspect of the story. For a few chapters, Katniss's POV will be told, and Peeta won't appear until a chapter or two later (Dodges thrown rocks). Sorry! I'll try to bring him in as quickly as I can though. I put my other fic on hiatus so I could focus my attention on this fic better, plus I have a one week vacation, so the chapters should come quite soon for the rest of the week, provided I buckle down and get my ass on my computer desk.**

**Thank you all who reviewed! Never in a million years would I have thought that the first people who reviewed my story would have been my favorite authors! A shout-out to HGRomance, Baroness Kika, and Court81981! You're all fantastic!**

**Another heartfelt thanks to everlarkrecs and Baroness Kika, for recommending my story on Tumblr! That got me a boatload of favorites and follows! I appreciate it!**

_It's hard letting go,_

_**I'm finally at peace, but it feels wrong,**_

Katniss stared into some random corner of the room, barely listening to the teacher's lecture as she just waited for the hour and fifteen minutes of purgatory that was history class to end.

She doubted she's the only one not paying attention. All the material was in the textbooks, wasn't it? The rest of the class would have to be total idiots if they haven't figured it out. Katniss had probably aced every test and quiz in this class and she didn't write a word of notes. The lecture was just a waste of precious time. Not to mention it was mind-numbing. The new teacher, Mr. Crane, was droning about some pre and post-Industrial Revolution thing that Katniss highly doubted would ever benefit her in real life. She didn't know what she wanted to be in the future, but after today, she was certain to not pick anything that had to do with history.

Katniss was content with working at her grandma's diner, but she didn't want to live at home for the rest of her life. She wanted to become independent. She just wasn't sure what she'd be good at doing.

When the finally bell rang, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Well, at least for today anyway.

"Alright, remember," Mr. Crane said as the class hurried to get out of the classroom. "Read chapters four through seven, and answer the review questions for Thursday!" Katniss hardly listened to Crane's words as she rushed to close her notebook and textbook. Her shift at the diner began about half an hour after school, but she really had nothing better to do,

"Hey, it's Catnip, right?"

As she was hastily packing everything into her backpack, she looked to see an older boy standing next to her desk. She's sure she'd seen him before. What was his name? Gary? Galvin? Something with a "G". She remembered some people asking if she had a brother or a cousin, because apparently there was another kid in school running around with dark hair, olive skin, and grey eyes, like her. He fit the description, and he was pretty tall and looked rather athletic.

"Kat-_niss_," she corrected the boy, showing her irritation through her narrowing eyes. Did he honestly think her name was "Catnip"? What kind of self-respecting person would allow themselves to be called _that_?

"Okay," he said, a bit taken back by her abrasiveness (as everyone is) before he continued. "Katniss then. I'm Gale," so that's his name. He held out his hand, waiting for her to shake it.

"Look, I'd love to stay and chat," huge lie. "But I have to go," before he could say another word, Katniss grabbed her now zipped-up pack, and walked out the door to the student flooded hallways. She walked as quickly as possible, wanting to get out of this terrible excuse of an educational center. She saw a few faces she recognized, but she didn't say any greetings, and neither did they. She was never very big on friend-making, and most of the school knew it.

"Hey!" she gave an annoyed huff as she heard Gale's voice again. Doesn't he have anything better to do? "Wait a sec!"

"I told you-" her frustration only grew when he cut her off.

"I know, but this is important, so let's just talk while we're walking," Gale insists. "I've got a small favor to ask-"

"I don't have any money to lend," Katniss interrupted as she quickened her pace, desperately trying to get this guy out of her hair.

"Money?" he asked, confused, trailing after her once more. What was wrong with this guy? Why couldn't he be like the rest of the school and leave her the hell alone? "No, no, I'm not asking for money. It's about a club I'm in."

"Not interested."

"You don't even know what kind of club it is!" Gale pressed on. "It's…kinda…_varied_ in its activities. I guess you can call it an athletic club."

"I don't do sports," Katniss said, hoping that would send Gale away.

Luck wasn't on her side today, it seemed.

"It's not a sports club," he said. "I mean, we _do_ athletics and stuff like that, but we don't do any competitions or anything."

"Still not interested," Katniss repeated.

"You're gonna blow me off, just like that?" He groaned. "Would you just-"

"Hey Hawthorne!" the two students saw a faculty member with black shaggy hair and an unshaven face that Katniss recognized as Mr. Abernathy, one of the teachers in the Social Studies department. As if history being her least favorite subject wasn't bad enough, Abernathy was known by everyone as being a snarky pain in the ass to everyone who pretty much breathed, even by those like Katniss, who was fortunate not to be in any of his classes.

"Hey Haymi-_Mr. Abernathy_," Gale corrected himself a bit too quickly. The teacher's first name was Haymitch, but in school, everyone addressed him as Mr. Abernathy. Did Gale know the teacher personally? "Great timing. I was just telling Katniss here about our club."

"_You're_ in the club too?" she asked the teacher. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. Was this "club" trying to corner her or something? Was there a guidebook for the club that specifically asked for members who were social pariahs with horrible people skills?

"That I am, sweetheart," Mr. Abernathy said, and Katniss's scowl deepened at the disdainful moniker that he gave to about every female he met. "Hawthorne and I are the ones who started it. I'm the club's advisor."

"What kind of club is it anyway?" Katniss asked. She had no intention of joining, and she was probably regret extending the conversation, but Gale's awfully vague description made her feel slightly curious.

"In a nutshell, it's a club where you learn different fighting styles," Abernathy answered.

"_Fighting styles_?" Katniss asked incredulously. Are they preparing for post-apocalyptic life or joining the army or something?

"Yeah, but we're not focusing on medals or trophies or anything like that," Gale added. "The goal of the club is just to advance our skills. Nothing competitive."

Haymitch snorted. "C'mon, Hawthorne. Throwing a bunch of kids together to train 'em to fight? There's bound to be _some_ competition."

Katniss was barely aware of what they were saying, both of them too engrossed in their own words to notice anything else.

"It'll be pretty well-rounded," Mr. Abernathy explained. "It's gonna cover several forms of martial arts, wrestling, fencing, archery, and pretty much all forms of fighting we can-what the hell…_where'd she go_?" Haymitch looked to see that in Katniss's place was nothing more than empty air.

* * *

_That was awkward_, Katniss thought. She wondered if Gale and Abernathy would be as insistent tomorrow in trying to get her to join their club. Usually, she could make anyone head in the opposite direction with nothing more than a scowl, but these two seemed awfully persistent.

The walk home was uneventful as always, and before she knew it, Katniss dug out the spare key she used and trudged into her grandmother's house.

"Grandma!" Katniss called out as she got in through the house. "I'm home!"

"Hello dear," Sae called back from the Diner. "How was school?"

"Fine," she said (her usual answer), and she to her room so she could change into her uniform. She hurried, wanting to catch the few precious moments when she was on her shift before Delly's had begun. The fellow waitress was nice enough, but she was like a talking doll without an off switch. Katniss swore she would strangle the girl someday whenever they were in each other's presence.

Katniss quickly changed into her uniform, a green collared shirt, and emptied her jean pockets so as to make room for possible tips. Katniss was known for not being a pleasant person (she's been accused of having the social skills of a dead slug), but on the job, she put on a fake smile and was willing to endure meaningless pleasantries and banters that she was pretty sure lowered her IQ with every word. She planned on getting her own place to live when she turned eighteen, and every little bit helped.

When she was finished with the left pocket and moved onto the right, she felt a small, round object that made her typical stress dissolve into nostalgia.

She didn't dare to take the pearl out of her pocket as she tried to quell down the rising emotions.

Katniss never got decent string for the pearl, like she intended to when she was in the car ride home from the Mellark's barbecue the night she got it. She didn't think there'd be much of a point anymore. But she never parted with it, not wanting to forget the closest thing she ever had to a friend that she knew for less than half an hour. She always kept it stuffed in her pocket, buried under loose change and whatnot, rarely ever taking it out for fear of losing it.

But sometimes, when she was alone, she took it out from where it made its home in her pocket and tried to remember everything she could about the Boy with No Name. The Boy in the Basement. The Boy with the Bread.

Katniss always wondered what happened to him. She was only ten at the time, naïve to child abuse. She was young, but she should have understood. She could have told someone. Even then, Katniss should have known that a kid being forced to live in a basement wasn't normal.

It was odd though. The Mellarks seemed like such nice people. Katniss would never have guessed that they'd lock an innocent twelve-year old in their basement. Ever since her parents died, Katniss hadn't heard hide nor hair of the Mellarks. She didn't see them at her parents' and sister's funeral, or any day since.

One time, about a year ago, when Sae was out of town for the day, visiting a sick friend, Katniss used some money she had been saving for bus tickets, and was determined to get to the place she used to live in with her parents. She remembered the town she grew up in, and was confident she could find her way to the Mellark's place.

She was right, but wasn't expecting to find it empty and abandoned.

Foolish hope and desperation still clinging to Katniss, she broke in through an open window, and ignored the dust-covered furniture in favor of the basement door. Finding it unlocked (she would have broken the door down if it was locked) she raced down the steps, and searched every corner of the dark chamber. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. A clue, a sign, (hopefully not) a body, just _something_ to give her some kind of closure.

Katniss searched the entire house, and found nothing. It was as if the Boy's words were true, and he had never existed.

When she got back home, Katniss went to her room, hugged her pillow, and cried as hard as she did when she mourned her parents and her sister.

She could only assume what had happened to him. On better (rarer) days, she'd think that Child Services got to the Mellarks, put them in jail for child abuse, and gave the Boy a family that loved him. A family that gave him a name, a home, and happy memories to replace the bad ones.

Other days, she'd assume that it stayed like that for a while, until he was old enough to leave. Maybe he got a place to stay, a job, struggling, but surviving.

At her worst, her imagination would take a dark turn and make her think of horrible things his parents would have done to him…

Not wanting to dwell any longer on such thoughts, Katniss ripped her hand out of her pocket so fast it slightly stung her hand. Brushing off those thoughts, she strolled through the hall and went through the door that separated the house from the diner. Since her grandmother's small house was connected to her diner, it was literally impossible for Katniss to be late for her shift even if she tried. Sometimes, it made her want to work at the diner for the rest of her life.

It was about an hour later when the bell at the door rang a third time, indicating another customer. Katniss hardly turned as she wiped down one of the tables.

"Katniss," Sae said to her granddaughter. "Isn't that one of your teachers?"

Katniss's eyes bulged to the size of dinner plates at her grandmother's words as she turned hesitantly towards the door, mentally reciting, _please don't be Mr. Abernathy, please don't be Mr. Abernathy, please don't be-_

"Why hello there," said the smug face of the man who was currently on the top of the list of people she hated the most.

_Why the hell do I bother to hope?_

He was here to convince her to join that damn club. What else could it be? Katniss had worked at the diner for two years, and not once did she ever see Mr. Abernathy walk in. She didn't even know how her grandma knew who he was. Hell, she didn't even know how the man knew Katniss worked here for that matter.

Katniss saw that Delly and Thom were both occupied at the moment, leaving her to be the only one left to serve Abernathy. Said man's eyebrows rose, as if telepathically telling her, _you can't keep dodging me forever_.

_Son of a bitch_, Katniss thought. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to the booth the teacher was seated in, glaring daggers at him all the while.

"Mr. Abernathy," Katniss said curtly.

"We're not in school, sweetheart, call me Haymitch. That'll save some time," he told her. "I'll take a coffee," after Katniss brought him his order, she tried to get away, but not before Haymitch called out to her grandmother. "Sae, you don't mind if I steal your waitress for a second? I gotta talk to her 'bout studies, this and that, you know."

"Of course, no problem at all!" Though Katniss loved her grandmother to pieces, she could be a great source of annoyance for her. Sae always encouraged Katniss to go hang out with friends and socialize with others. While Katniss knew her grandmother meant well, she just didn't know that Katniss was antisocial by _choice_.

"I'm not joining your club," Katniss snapped at the man. "Why the hell do you want _me_ anyway? I'm sure there are plenty of others who'd _love_ to join. People who'd love kung-fu shit that'll have _no_ use whatsoever in real life."

"Take it easy on the language, would you?" Haymitch muttered into his coffee mug. "Look, sweetheart, I think it'll be in your best interest if you join."

Katniss cocked an eyebrow and glared. "Are you _threatening_ me? I'm pretty sure I can get you fired or even arrested-"

"First of all," Haymitch cuts her off. "I'm _not_ threatening you, and right now, getting fired or arrested is about the least of my worries," he lowered his voice. "You're being targeted by pretty unlikeable people right now."

"Targeted by people more unlikable than a creepy teacher who's trying to get me to join his damn club?"

"You're one to talk about unlikeable," he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Would you just hear me out at least?"

_Fine_, she thinks. _If it'll get him off my back_.

"Make it quick, you're not the only customer here," she snapped as she plopped down on the opposite side of the booth and folded her arms.

"Fair enough," Haymitch sighed. "Alright, here's the deal. For centuries, there've been people who've practiced the art of war, passing on their secret techniques of fighting for generations."

"You mean there are 'secret techniques' to kicking someone's ass?" Katniss scoffed. "I'm pretty sure anyone who joins a karate class can do that, and it doesn't mean a thing."

"I'm talking about _ancient_ techniques," Haymitch corrected, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Fighting styles that warriors of old used all over the world. Ever since the Middle Ages, there were thirteen clans that held onto that ancient knowledge. In the modern world, we've learned to keep a low profile, making sure that no one knows about us. We've been able to survive for so long because we kept our business strictly in Panem, the secret world of the warrior."

"So there's some kind of hidden world for crazy people who like to swing around swords and shit?" Katniss deadpanned, and the man facepalmed.

"Why the hell did I become a teacher?" Haymitch griped. "I shouldn't have to deal with brats like you."

"_You're_ the one who signed up for the job, not me," Katniss said, feeling satisfaction in annoying the man. "Are you done _now_?"

"Nowhere near," Haymitch scowled. "Look, Panem isn't a world separate from this one in the literal sense. It's an underground of modern society. It's where we keep all our operations in secret."

"I'm not getting involved in anything illegal," Katniss was now getting nervous about where this was going.

"And no one's asking you to," Haymitch said, with an expression that screamed _dumbass_. "I'm saying that it's important for us to stay hidden in the modern world."

"Why do you need to stay hidden?" Katniss's curiosity began to get the best of her.

"We don't exactly use any fighting methods that people today know about, so let's leave it at that."

"What, do you mean training in some monastery with guys in dresses that shave their heads? I'm pretty sure anyone who watched cheap action movies knows about that."

Haymitch sighed. "You're gonna make me come out and say it, aren't you?"

"Say what?" Katniss demanded.

"There's no way in _hell_ you'll believe me if I do."

"I already don't believe you, so what do you have to lose?" Katniss asked sarcastically.

"Hmph," the man glared. "Sarcasm aside, you actually have a point. Alright, because unlike any cheap martial arts class or street thugs, we have a better chance in a fight because we use mysticism to help us."

"Mysticism?"

"Magic," Haymitch gave her a look as if _she_ was the one talking about magic right now as if that was totally normal.

"You're telling me you're some kind of _magical warrior_?" Katniss rolled her eyes. "Okay, this is where I get off the crazy train."

"Look, you'll see for yourself soon enough, but you need to trust me on this," his gaze bored through hers, completely honest in his words.

"I'm definitely not gonna trust some crazy nut-job of his meds, now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to reality," Katniss moved leave the booth but Haymitch got up from his seat and leaned closer, his expression filled to the brim with anger, which made Katniss almost wince.

"Katniss, dammit," Haymitch snarled, "I'm trying to talk to you seriously! Shit's going down, and if you don't wake the hell up, then if something happened to you, it'll be too late."

"Really?" Katniss glared, any fear quickly being replaced by anger. "What could happen to me? What, in your deluded, fantasy mindset, could be the worst that could happen?"

"You could be _killed_. You got that now, sweetheart?"

She had been threatened before, by morons in school with nothing better to do than to talk smack to everyone else, by bitchy girls who tried to preserve their pathetic egos. But this was different. The _way_ Haymitch had said it, as if delivering some kind of blunt truth rather than an empty threat, Katniss actually believed him, and she could feel the blood drain from her face…

"Katniss," Sae's voice snapped her out of her dread. _God bless my grandma_. She looked over to the elderly woman, who looked completely oblivious to the situation. "We're running low on parsley flakes, could you go buy some?"

"Sure thing," Katniss volunteered a bit too quickly. The opportunity was almost too good to be true, getting away from her stalker teacher.

"Hold on a sec-" Haymitch tried to stop her, but Katniss was one step ahead of him.

"Grandma," she said with a false cheerfulness. "Mr. Abernathy wanted to talk to you about your book club. I think he's interested in joining!"

Sae beamed. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! Come on, let me give you the date of our next meeting. We're reading _Fifty Shades of Grey_ this month!"

Katniss grabbed her sweatshirt from the coatrack and got out of the diner as fast as she could, but she could hear Haymitch sputter like a car with a dying engine from a mile away.

_Trying to get me to join some shitty club that'll lower your IQ by the second?_ Katniss smirked. _Let's see how_ you _like it_.

Hands stuffed into her shirt pockets, Katniss headed to the grocery store, planning to take as much time as possible. Maybe, if she was lucky, Sae would have sent Haymitch running out of the diner screaming. Katniss repressed a smirk at the mental image.

Still, Haymitch looked dead serious when he was speaking, which either meant he was a true D&D fanatic, or had lost his marbles.

Or both. Yeah, probably both.

Katniss sighed. She was sure that Haymitch wasn't going to leave this alone. Maybe she could file a complaint to Principal Trinket, tell her that the man's following her, pressuring her to join his club. But that could get him fired, and as much as Katniss wanted Haymitch off her back, she didn't want him to lose his job.

_Whatever_, Katniss shook off any and all thoughts of weird teachers and crappy clubs. Just survive until the next day. That motto had worked perfectly for her so far.

She was halfway to the grocery store that she and Sae would usually go for ingredients when she heard voices from behind her.

"My patience is wearing thin-"

"Well that's too damn bad."

Katniss looked around to see who said that, but she didn't see anyone on the streets.

_That's weird_, Katniss thought. _It isn't that late_.

"Why don't you go away and hide behind your filthy mutts?"

"You're walking a thin line, kid. A thin line."

_Wait_, Katniss stopped dead in her tracks. _Those voices sound familiar…_

"What the hell makes you think I know?"

"Don't lie to me. I _know_ you were assigned to protect its possessor. Now tell me who it is!"

Katniss hardly understood what they were talking about, and she realized that the voices were coming from a nearby alleyway.

"And if I don't?"

"Then I kill you. Simple as that."

"I thought you're clan didn't like to get their hands dirty."

Every bone in Katniss's body told her to get as far away from there as possible, but she felt something inside her…_stir_ at every word they were saying. Like it involved her somehow, and she needed to see what was going on. She couldn't be sure, but she could swear that she heard the faintest of voices telling her "_Go…_"

So, against her better judgment, Katniss went towards the alley, expecting to see a mugging or an argument between two people.

Katniss saw neither.

She saw none other than Mr. Crane and Gale Hawthorne, both holding a long, silver sword in their hands, their blades at the other's throat, both of them staring each other down as if they were about to be thrown into a vicious swordfight.

"What the…" Katniss must have been louder than she thought, because Gale's head turned to face her.

"Oh shit-KATNISS-!" as Gale was caught off guard, and Crane took his chance, the flat side of his blade smacking boy in the face, knocking him out. Katniss opened her mouth to scream, but not a peep came out of her, as if she had just lost her voice.

"Bastard," Crane spat at Gale's limp body as his sword disappeared. "Thanks for that, Everdeen. I'd kill him, but my boss warned me about leaving a messy trail. I have a habit of doing that," his voice was completely casual, as if he were discussing a traffic jam or bad weather.

Katniss couldn't move. There were two sides of her, one yelling at her to help Gale in some way, the other telling her to run like hell, but for some reason, her legs just wouldn't listen to her head. All she could do was watch.

"Wait…" Crane's eyes narrowed. "That aura…could it be?" From his pocket, Crane pulled out some kind of circular metal object attached to a chain, carved with weird-looking symbols. Suddenly, it began spinning with furious speed, glowing as if it was red hot.

"Hm," Crane's sinister grin made Katniss's flesh crawl. "So _you're_ the one. _You_ have the beast. Never would've guessed it, _you_ of all people. Nevertheless, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

"W-what-" Katniss gritted her teeth. _Get a grip Everdeen, get a fucking grip!_ "Why? What do you want?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry," Crane smirked. "I don't want _you_. You're just a vessel. What I want, is the beast. The monster that lives _inside_ you. And once we're able to control it, the First Clan will come to power, and we'll take our rightful place as the Rulers of Panem."

"You're fucking crazy," Katniss spat, finally getting over her fear and regaining her control of her faculties. _I'm not even going to pretend to know what the hell you just said_.

"Oh, isn't that cute," Crane rolled his eyes. "You're still unaware. Doesn't matter. Our Chief will be able to convince you of the truth."

"I'm not going anywhere," Katniss said, doing her best to sound as defiant as possible.

The teacher clapped his hands, and instantly, in a puff of purple smoke, ten dogs appeared out of nowhere, but upon closer inspection, Katniss realized that they weren't _dogs_…

The closest thing Katniss could compare them were strange wolves. They were large, hulking creatures, much larger than normal dogs. They had fur that was practically identical to human hair, some were brown, some were black, some red, some blond, and they had eyes that were eerily human, which made Katniss cringe when they began snarling at her.

"Believe me now, Everdeen?" Crane sneered. "Don't bother screaming for help. Anyone without a direct connection to Panem won't be able to see these beauties. Incapacitate her," he calmly ordered the wolf-creatures. "Then bring her back to headquarters."

Suddenly, the formerly unconscious Gale jumped to his feet, and gave a swift kick to Crane's stomach, sending him back into the wall of the alley. He then grabbed something from his pocket. It looked like it was made of some kind of silvery metal, and Katniss suppressed a gasp as it began to glow and extend into a metal staff as tall as he was. One of the wolves charged at him, and faster than any human being should be, Gale sent a blow to the creature with a sickening crack.

"Katniss!" Gale called out. "Run!"

Gale didn't need to speak twice.

Katniss ran as fast she could, mentally cursing herself for never engaging in any sports. Until now, she had entirely neglected the usefulness of running. She didn't know where she was running to. She couldn't go back to her house, she'd just lead Crane to her grandma. Someplace public? He might not want to draw that kind of attention, but then innocent people might get hurt…

She took several sharp turns through streets, and upon impulse, she raced into some nearby trees, quickly finding herself in some woods. Thinking she was safe at the moment, Katniss stopped to catch her breath.

_Okay_, she thought. _There is no fucking way in hell that just happened. I'm hallucinating. Someone slipped something in my food. That's gotta be it._

_Please let that be it. Oh please._

Out of nowhere, one of the wolf-creatures jumped from behind a tree and in Katniss's way. She yelled in shock as she nearly fell to the ground, and pretty soon, she was surrounded by more of the mutated canines, and her history teacher's smug face.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Crane wagged his finger. "You're not getting away that easily, Everdeen. Normally, I let my prey run a little further. I like a good chase. But I can't afford to take any chances now. You can either come with me willingly, or I can have my pets drag you by the _throat_. You're choice."

Katniss began to visibly shake, beads of sweat running down her face. The creatures circled her, slowly inching closer to her, teeth bared.

There was no way out.

_Oh god…_Katniss's mouth was open, but couldn't form any words from her shaking jaw. _This is not happening, this is not happening…_

"_Why don't you fight back_?" A new voice, neither Crane's nor Gale's spoke. It was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"W-who said that?"

"What?" Crane snapped. "I didn't-"

Suddenly, the wolves began whimpering like scared puppies as smoke began to ooze from their fur, and soon after, they all yelped and writhed on the ground as they burst into flames.

"What the hell?" Crane yelled. His eyes widened in fear as he looked at Katniss. "It can't be…" He looked as if he hadn't seen anything more terrifying. "It's…it's already…"

"_You don't appreciate being a piece in a game, do you, Katniss?_" It was a small, quiet voice that seemed to grow louder and more powerful with every word. The voice was calm, neither male nor female, and it was deep and echoing.

"What's going on?" screw the wolves, this voice inside her head was terrifying her even more.

"IT'S AWAKE!" Crane screamed, his voice a few octaves higher.

"_Why don't you kill them? Punish them for having the audacity to stand in your way_?"

"Who are you?"

"_I can be the end of everything…or the _beginning_ of everything._"

"What the hell does that mean?!" her voice was bordering hysterical.

"_Hehehehehe. My dear Katniss, you have yet to fully understand the power you have. Let me show you what lurks in the depths of your very soul. Let me show you…_"

Katniss blinked, and when her eyes opened, they were a burning color of golden red, like hot coals, and images began to flash through her mind…

_At the edge of the universe, where there is only nothingness, there was a spark, a spark that ignited into roaring fires…_

…_Enormous, monstrous beasts all fighting, some made of flesh, some of fire, some like nothing Katniss ever saw. All were fighting a savage battle to the death, and in the end, only one was triumphant…_

…_A massive bird, one with wings wreathed in flames and feathers of the same color, flying through infinite space…_

"_My call can shake planets_," Katniss's arms rose as if on their own, and her entire body began to be wreathed in flames. Wings of pure fire formed around her outstretched arms, and she could feel herself beginning to lose control of her body and mind to this…this _thing_. She was only vaguely aware of screams around her being drowned out by the voice. "_My wing-beat can sweep away stars. My talons can rip apart entire worlds. Power over time, reality, and even the thoughts and wills of others. All this power can be all yours, _if you wish it_._"

"I…" Katniss could hardly speak as everything started to fade to black. "I d-don't want…"

"_Come now_," the voice cooed. "_Don't you seek freedom? Independence? The only means to such is power, and power alone. So tell me, little one. Tell me what you wish. Tell me what you desire, and Mockingjay will grant it to you_."

**I ended there. Oh yes I did (ducks under a thrown rock). Ha! Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta-(gets hit in the head by an anvil)**

**How did I do? Did I capture the characters okay? I'd appreciate some feedback. Until next time!**


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